Perhaps nothing is more personal or challenging in the life of faith than how we understand God in the face of suffering, loss and the death of a loved one.
This June, I got to share how my faith sustains me in those times.
At an academic conference.
My first bit of summer travel was to a conference where I was giving a keynote presentation. The Institute for American Religious and Philosophical Thought (IARPT) is one of my favorite group of academic folk – mainly because I get to hang out with other people in my subfield and speak insider language. We are a bunch of process and pragmatist philosophers and liberal theologians. We trace our work to ideals that emerge in a US context – even though we think they have wider appeal. In our meetings, I get pushed to think in new ways and engage ideas that don’t normally come across my desk.
When I received the invitation to talk on the conference theme of “suffering, death and grief in a wholly natural world,” I felt that they had emailed the wrong person. A quick internet search will give you a pretty accurate definition of naturalism:
“Naturalism is the belief that nothing exists beyond the natural world. Instead of using supernatural or spiritual explanations, naturalism focuses on explanations that come from the laws of nature.”
That’s not me, I said. I am really into God.
But I do spend time thinking about suffering, grief and loss, so I hoped I might have something interesting to say. Although I’ve never called myself a naturalist, I might be one. Because the “sacred” and “secular” are so intimately connected and I’m so deeply convinced that God is in all of us, I don’t really think about God as if God is a superhero. Yes, I think I might have something to say.
Since the invitation did not align with my current research (more on that in another email), I thought I’d have fun with it. I decided to speak about something that I don’t research as much as I live. That sounds odd because I believe the things I research. I don’t just study process theology; it’s my own theological framework. I don’t just study Black religions; I engage and practice Black religion.
But I rarely go to academic conferences and talk about what my faith looks like in my home and how I raise my kid and why I think it’s cool and liberative.
As many of you know, I understand the world as being consistent about one thing: change. I explicate this idea through process theology. My faith has been shaped by Black Baptist and AME Church traditions and I practice the traditional religion of the Yoruba people of West Africa that we often refer to as “Ifa.” Altogether, it’s given me a radical sense of incarnation and a robust understanding of loss and ancestors.
So I spoke on this topic:
“How will Grandma Find Us?: What Process Metaphysics and African Traditional Religions Can Teach Us about Loss, Grief, Ancestors and Ritual.”
The title comes from the question my then-seven year-old asked me when my mother’s health took a steep decline and we had a hard conversation about Grandma becoming an ancestor. The talk was my answer and how I got there.
The scholars present listened attentively to my explanation and asked really good questions. In a proud Mama moment, my almost-teen answered one of the questions. Correctly.
My colleagues asked about finer points of my philosophical reasoning, but most people ask me how this works.
How, they ask, am I connected to church and Ifa?
How do I reconcile or hold together two different Black religions?
Why don’t I seem to feel conflict?
I get these questions a lot but I haven’t talked much about it, so I’m offering a chance to answer these questions. How would you like to hear from me on this topic?
Live Question-and-Answer sessions
A book study with me
A half-day virtual retreat
A day-long in-person intimate gathering
Just hit reply and let me know.
Dr. Monica
